Sorrowful Blond
by Gawariel
Summary: Draco witnesses something he cannot cope with... COMPLETE


Disclamer: All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
This story was written for Nvr2Blonde for Unredeemed's Ficathon 2004  
  
****Sorrowful Blond****  
  
-*-Chapter I) The birthday party-*-  
  
"Good morning, Draco. And happy birthday."  
  
The cool and emotionless face of Narcissa Malfoy came down to give her son a peck on the cheek. That was the only time his mother ever kissed him. Otherwise she was as cool and reserved towards her son as she was to her husband and his friends. Draco had never known it to be different, so he found it to be normal. That was why he thanked his mother in a respectful but distant manner, giving her a smile that only featured briefly on his lips.  
  
"Your father wishes to see you."  
  
Something flickered in her eyes as she spoke, which was highly unusual. Narcissa's eyes bore something sad and regretful, but because the emotion disappeared as quickly as it had come, and because Draco and his mother weren't really looking at each other, the emotion was lost.  
  
"I will go and see him immediately, mother. I trust he is in his study?" Narcissa nodded. Draco got up from his chair and made his way towards the door behind his mother. As he passed her she suddenly turned around, and laid a cool hand on his shoulder. Draco turned his head and looked at her questioningly.  
  
"I...Everything is arranged for tonight. I hope everything will be as you wished." She passed her son and left through the door he had been heading for. Draco was a little surprised. He had had the distinct impression that his mother had intended to say something completely different. He quickly shook the feeling away and headed to his father's chamber.  
  
"Ah, Draco."  
  
Lucius Malfoy was sitting behind a jet-black wooden desk near the window of his study. The surface lay full of scrolls, but still it did not look untidy. Lucius had obviously been writing, because he waved his son in with a long black eagle feather quill.  
  
"Sit down boy. I will be with you in a second." Lucius bent over a piece of parchment, dipped his quill in a bottle of greenish ink and started writing. Again, Draco was surprised. Never before had he been allowed in his father's chamber when he was busy with something. Instead of saying something, Draco did as he was told. He didn't show any emotion, graciously sat down in a chair opposite his father and kept a steady eye on the window as he waited patiently.  
  
Lucius continued writing for a few minutes until he rolled up the scroll and sealed it with the Malfoy-family seal. He stood quietly and went to the perch standing near the fireplace, where an eagle-owl was waiting. He tied the scroll to the owl's outstretched leg and it swept away through the window. Only after all this did he turn back to his son.  
  
"Well, Draco, happy sixteenth birthday."  
  
"Thank you, father."  
  
"It's an important age, 16," Lucius continued as he sat back down, "It's an age where a boy becomes the man he will be for the rest of his life. For that, it is and age where a little more privilege, and with that, more responsibility is in order. I feel that it is time for me to let you know more of the world you are living in. Of course, I won't tell you all, but I will tell you more than what has been the case so far."  
  
Draco blinked and felt his jaw drop. His father raised an eyebrow and made to comment, but Draco quickly fixed his composure.  
  
"Thank you, father. I will not betray your trust."  
  
"I sincerely hope so."  
  
Draco now sat on the edge of his chair. "I know that I won't father."  
  
"I'm glad you are so sure of yourself. When I feel you are ready, I can let you take part in some of our meetings in honour of our Lord."  
  
"I'm very grateful father." Draco added seriously.  
  
Lucius smirked. "Right. Now, you may leave, Draco. Your guests arrive in two hours for lunch."  
  
"Leave?" Draco uttered surprised, "But I thought..."  
  
"You didn't think I was going to tell you all right away, did you? All in its own time, son."  
  
Draco felt disappointed. He had thought that. Who wouldn't have? Then again, this was Lucius Malfoy, the man who never directly did as people expect.  
  
Draco rose. "You're right, father, as always. I shall leave you now. I hope you won't be to busy to join us for lunch?"  
  
"Of course I shall be there. It's my son's birthday." Lucius gave one of his fake smiles, which Draco returned.  
  
Like that ever mattered! He thought reproachfully. He gave a small bow and left the room, where his father was already bent over a fresh roll of parchment.  
  
Draco headed back to his room to get ready for his guests. He was excited. Not because of the party, but because what he was about to find out from his father. All he ever wanted was to be let in, and now that day had arrived. His father trusted him enough. Of course he hadn't told him anything yet, but Draco was sure the information would follow soon.  
  
That thought made him all the happier, and he stopped dreading the coming party. He washed himself cheerfully and pulled on his brand new dress robes. They were, of course, in Slytherin green with real golden embroidery. You would think the combination looked strange, but it really did bring composure to the young man. He certainly thought so when he grinned self-satisfactorily at himself in the mirror.  
  
"Yes dear, you look very handsome today!" the mirror commented.  
  
Normally Draco was very annoyed when the mirror commented on his appearance. Not that it ever had something bad to say - how could it? - but he just couldn't understand why there was such an informal object in his noble house. Today, however, Draco was in too good a mood to be annoyed, so he just nodded again and left for the ballroom.  
  
His mother had indeed gone into a lot of trouble to make the ballroom worthy of her only child's 16th birthday. The black marble floor had been waxed so enthusiastically that it was like the surface of a deep lake. Along the walls were long tables full of food and drinks. On each table was a large ice sculpture in the traditional shapes of snakes and dragons. The whole room was bathed in a soft green light.  
  
Draco was quite pleased with his mother's creation. It wasn't childish in the least, but classy and easy on the eye.  
  
At long last the first guests were announced and Draco took in his place next to his father and mother to greet everyone. The ladies all were dressed in fairy-tale gowns and the men in gentlemanly dress-robes.  
  
All in all the party was just like every other party hosted at Malfoy manor: pleasant to begin with, but boring as it went on. This was why Draco was quite happy to see his last guest leave.  
  
He didn't at all feel like going to bed, so he got out his broom to go for a late night flight.  
  
The night air was not too warm and not too cold. Just right for the occasion. Draco closed his eyes as he soared through the sky. Oh, how he loved flying. How he loved the solitude, the rush, the excitement. He didn't know where he was heading and he didn't care. All he wanted was stay on his broom as long as was physically possible.  
  
A peculiar sound reached his ears. It was faint and hard to distinguish, but something about it caught Draco's attention. He opened his eyes and turned his head .  
  
Then he saw it. Death Eaters near the mansion below him.  
  
Draco started to descend, slow enough so as not to catch any attention. He landed quietly behind a bush.  
  
He recognised the house he was at. He had been here before when he was a child. This was the Donneaux estate.  
  
The Donneauxs were a French, magical family. They had moved here when he was 8 or 9. They had been invited over for a welcoming. His father had obliged. His father had thought the family to be rich and highly respected. He was a little annoyed when he found out the family had merely inherited the place and had no substantial Gringrott's account. Lucius had grown cold when he had heard that the family was not well known in France and therefore of no importance. Eventually the Malfoy's had left the Donneauxs house when Lucius had heard that Mr. Donneaux disagreed with his views on muggles.  
  
After that one visit, Draco had never heard his father mention the Donneaux's again. Draco had enjoyed the visit. The Donneaux's had a boy around Draco's age, and they had played nicely. Draco had hoped to see the boy again, but when he had seen the fury his father was in he had forgotten about the boy he'd wanted to be his friend.  
  
And now there were Death Eaters all over the place. The sound that had made Draco land had been the screaming of Madame and Mademoiselle Donneaux. Madame was tied down on a chair forced to watch as her daughter was raped by every single man and then brutally murdered. Monsieur lay already dead on the lawn. It was obvious to Draco that the man had first been heavily tortured and had probably died slowly from his wounds. After the daughter was killed, the Death Eaters turned towards Madame Donneaux.  
  
"Where is you son?" one asked her.  
  
"Faace." the woman replied. Apparently her tongue had been cut out, because the woman could hardly pronounce that her son was in France.  
  
The man that had asked the question turned to his companions.  
  
"Pity. Means we only have one left to play with." He laughed cruelly.  
  
"Now Madame, what could we do to you that is even worse than what you have already been through?"  
  
"Oh, I have a few ideas." another man said.  
  
Draco had seen enough. As quickly as he could, he mounted his broom and sped home.  
  
-*-Chapter II) Doubts.-*-  
  
When Draco arrived back home he ran straight for his room. He couldn't process what he just had witnessed. Why had the Donneauxs been murdered? They never did anything wrong. They weren't like the Weasleys. They were just neutral. Was that a reason for being slaughtered so brutally? Draco found himself thinking that even the Weasleys didn't deserve that. In fact, nobody did, no matter how wrong there beliefs are.  
  
Draco doubted if he could ask his father. Could his father have a suitable answer that justified the bloodshed? Did his father know about it? He hadn't been there. Draco would have recognized him, even if he had been hooded. Of course his father didn't know about it. His father maybe could be mean and cold, but he would never allow such a primitive act of killing.  
  
Would he?  
  
Draco felt sick. It wasn't a scene he was used seeing. He had heard enough about war and torment, but never before had he witnessed how cruel it all could be. For the first time in his life Draco doubted about the cause of the Death Eaters. For the first time, he doubted about his beliefs.  
  
Was this what he believed in? No, that wasn't what it was. He believed in pureness of blood. He believed in his superiority over mudbloods and muggles. He believed that this superiority must be reflected in his privileges in society. He didn't believe in innocents being murdered. He didn't believe in the concept of "killing for pleasure". And as far as Draco knew, neither did his father. He would have known that, wouldn't he? His father was a respected and civilized man. What Draco just had seen was pure animalism, pure basic instincts. His father would turn up his noise for such primitivism. Draco was sure of it.  
  
His father would have all the answers, of course he would. His father would see that the people responsible for this act are punished. Draco would tell his father. He had to. But now it was too late. He would now try and forget about it (even though it seemed a highly difficult thing to do) and he would ask his father in the morning.  
  
With these last thoughts, Draco prepared to go to bed. Once under the blankets, the boy – because that was what he still was; a boy, no matter what he wished to believe – had difficulties getting the gruesome images out of his head. Once he finally fell asleep, his dreams played back the scenes that had meant the end of his birthday party, causing him highly realistic nightmares and a very restless sleep.  
  
***  
  
The next morning Draco awoke with a start. He had had the worst nightmares he'd ever experienced.  
  
He needed to see his father. He couldn't live with this. He couldn't live with the guilt for something he wasn't responsible for. Draco jumped out of bed and groomed himself in a record time. Instead of going for breakfast first, he went straight to his father's study.  
  
The door was closed, as usual. Draco knocked urgently and waited to be allowed in. When he didn't receive an answer, which was strange because his father always was here this time of day, he knocked again. Nothing. Then Draco heard footsteps heading his way.  
  
"Draco? What are you doing here?" his father asked, surprised.  
  
"I need to talk to you, father." He answered.  
  
"Do you? Well, come into my study then." Lucius could clearly see there was something bothering his son.  
  
Draco followed his father inside and seated himself into the chair before his father's bureau, without being told to do so. Lucius frowned, but said nothing. He strode over to his side of the desk and sat down.  
  
"Well, boy, what is it? I do not have all day."  
  
"You never have, father." Draco said, but wished he hadn't when he saw the face of the man before him. He quickly corrected himself by saying, "I know you are an important man in our society, so it's normal you have little time for little things..."  
  
Lucius waved his hand impatiently, "Yes, yes, that is enough. Get to your point, son."  
  
"I wish to talk to you about something I witnessed yesterday."  
  
When Draco saw no reaction to this statement from his father he continued, "After the party I went out on my broom. When I flew over the Donneauxs house I saw they had, er, visitors."  
  
Again Draco paused. A corner of his father's mouth twitched. Was he nervous, or was he suppressing a smile?  
  
"Continue, Draco." Lucius interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Well, I was sort of wondering if you could explain what I saw." Draco hoped that this would be enough to get his father talking.  
  
"I would think it was obvious what you saw, wouldn't you think." Lucius replied coolly.  
  
"Yes, yes, it was obvious, but I wish you could explain it to me. Explain why it happened."  
  
"Why? I didn't realise we needed a why."  
  
"We don't?" Draco was cold all over.  
  
"Draco, I do not understand what you want."  
  
"Father, I need to know why Death Eaters tortured and killed the Donneauxs!"  
  
There, he had said it. No taking it back. He had said aloud what he had seen, and now his father would give him a very good reason why. At least, he hoped so.  
  
Lucius stared at his son. He studied the boy's face, but Draco had been trained well. He knew his father would not be able to to read much from his expression.  
  
Then Lucius started talking; "There is no reason, just that they happened to be there."  
  
Draco twitched. "No reason? But..."  
  
"There is no point thinking about it boy. That is just how Death Eater parties go. Always have been and probably always will be. We go hunting and when we find our prey we practice our skills on them for when the war begins."  
  
"So, what you are saying is that the Donneauxs were killed for fun?"  
  
"No, you shouldn't look at it like that. The Donneauxs did us a tremendous favour. They helped to get us ready for when the Dark Lord arises. And when we have fun doing it, all the better, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Draco's mouth was dry. What his father said went against all he thought he believed in. He didn't know things went like that. He didn't know his father was such a... such a monster!  
  
"Soon you will join us." Lucius added proudly.  
  
Draco had to suppress a shiver. "When?"  
  
"Soon enough. When I think you're ready."  
  
Draco wondered how one could ever be ready to kill. He felt panic rising, but he had to stay cool. Maybe he could do something with this situation? He had to make his father talk. He didn't know what he would do with the information, but at least he would be able to do something.  
  
"Is there a party again soon?" Draco tried to sound interested, but not too eager.  
  
Lucius smiled. No smirking, no haughtiness, but real genuine smiling.  
  
Was he actually proud of him asking that? Did he really think Draco couldn't wait to be let in now that he knew what exactly it meant to be let in? Well, all the better if he thought that. It meant Draco was even a better actor then he had thought.  
  
Draco turned to his father and smiled back.  
  
"I see you're getting impatient." Lucius finally said. "There are parties coming up, but I don't think you're going to join us this soon."  
  
"Could you tell me about it then?"  
  
Draco had never seen his father look more conceited about himself and his offspring.  
  
"Well, I did promise to tell you more, didn't I? I guess that is information I could trust you with. Let's see." Lucius opened one of the drawers of his desk and took out a black book. Then he took his wand and pronounced a spell over the book and it opened. "Tomorrow there is another party planned with the Davinports. Next Monday there is one with the Libovàs. Tuesday is the beginning of the school year, so then we will be quiet for a month or so. But I think I will grant you access to this book, so you can consult it if you wish to. When you go back to school I'll give you a book of your own and when I fill out something in this book it will be automatically added in yours. No one else will be able to read it, because they'll need to perform a spell to gain access, and even if they do, only your eyes will be able to read the ink. How do you feel about that?"  
  
Draco stared at his father as if he had just grown another head. Apparently he had made his father very proud by being interested in this.  
  
"Draco! Don't look like that. It makes you look like an idiotic fish."  
  
Draco straightened himself. "I'm sorry father. You're proposition sounds very good. I would be very grateful if you trusted me like that."  
  
"So be it then. Now, if you could leave me? I have work to do."  
  
"Of course father. Thank you for talking to me."  
  
-*-Chapter III) The plan: Eternal silence cries out for justice.-*-  
  
As his father had promised, Draco received his own black book the first of September. When he mounted the Hogwarts Express he held the book closely to him, not leaving it with the rest of his luggage. His companions looked at him curiously, but didn't ask, because of the gloomy face Draco bore.  
  
Draco felt unbelievably guilty. After his encounter at the Donneauxs, two more families had been attacked and there had been nothing he could do. He understood that he couldn't prevent it all. He might be able to stop a few, but he would need help. He needed to tell someone who had some influence or, better yet, he needed to tell someone who knew someone with such an influence. That was why Draco had come up with his plan. It would take a while to convince people he meant well, but if it meant saving the lives of innocents he would give it a very good try.  
  
Draco had decided to bring Saint Potter and his monkeys into the plan. He would send Potter a letter.  
  
It was at the start of October that Draco sat behind his desk writing one of the most difficult things he had ever written.  
  
In a way it felt good to write this. It felt good to know he was doing the right thing. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was betraying his father, his trust. It took him nearly two hours to write that letter, but when it was finished, he was highly pleased of himself. He sealed it, went to send it out in the owlery, and then went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The owl would arrive during the morning post, so Draco would be able to see their reactions.  
  
Harry Potter was sitting in his usual spot at the Gryffindor table. As usual, his two best friends, Weasley and the Mudblood, sat with him. When the owls came swooping down with the morning post, one headed straight for Potter and dropped the letter in his lap. Draco had been wise enough to use one of the school owls, so as not to attract too much attention.  
  
***  
  
Harry, surprised, picked up the letter that had just landed in his lap.  
  
"Were you expecting something?" Hermione asked casually.  
  
"No, I wasn't. Wonder who it is from...?"  
  
"Well, open it mate, then you'll know." Ron said laconically.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, opened the letter, and quickly skimmed through it. His eyes widened and he gasped.  
  
"What?" Ron asked.  
  
"Follow me out, now." Harry said, and he left the Great Hall.  
  
Harry headed to the front gate and once he was far enough for anyone to hear them he turned to his friends. Hermione was breathless, because Harry nearly had been running. "What was all that about?" she managed.  
  
"I'll give you three chances to guess who this letter is from I'd even give you a thousand chances; you'll never guess."  
  
"Snuffles?" Ron asked.  
  
"Not even close."  
  
"Harry, don't play games. Just tell us." Hermione said, irritated.  
  
"Okay, but don't tell me I didn't warn you. It's from Malfoy."  
  
"What?!" Both Ron and Hermione looked completely and utterly shocked.  
  
"That's right. And you wouldn't believe what he has written. Here, see for yourself." Harry held out the letter for his friends to read.  
  
***Potter, I have something urgent to discuss with you. It is for your own good. Meet me tonight at 9 o'clock at the portrait of Jeanne d'Arc. If you wish you may bring someone along, as long as they can be trusted. If you agree just send me a simple message bearing the word "Yes", if not, send nothing ~Draco Malfoy***  
  
"What the hell does he want? I'm sure there is some filthy trick behind all this!" Ron spat after he read it.  
  
"I don't know..." Hermione said, "If he agrees for you to bring someone it must be something really serious."  
  
"Yeah... Malfoy certainly isn't that stupid to think he can trick us like that, is he? My first impression also is to believe him, strangely," Harry said.  
  
"What? Are you insane? This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about. He would never fail to take an opportunity to play a trick on us. And if he thinks we will fall for that, he would certainly not pass on the chance." Ron raged.  
  
"Calm down, Ron!" Hermione hushed, "I do think we can't let this go without any action. You boys could go together. If he thinks on playing a trick on you, you'll be able to escape."  
  
"She's right Ron. We can go under my invisibility cloak. If we see he has a dirty trick awaiting for us, we just turn around and leave. He will never know we were there."  
  
Ron only grunted.  
  
"Send him a message back that it's okay. Don't worry so much, Ron. Just because he's our enemy, the son of a Death Eater, and has preternaturally blonde hair, doesn't mean he's going to double-cross us." Hermione directed.  
  
That evening Hermione let Harry and Ron out of the portrait hole as they were hidden underneath the cloak. Silently the boys crept to the portrait where Draco had wanted them to meet. Draco was already there standing casually against the wall. The boys walked back again until they were behind a corner, threw of the invisibility cloak and walked over to Draco.  
  
"So, you did decide to show up." Draco greeted.  
  
"You didn't think we would trust you enough to come here straight away without checking first, now would you?"  
  
"Fair enough, Weasel, no need to get bitchy about it." Draco sneered.  
  
"Now, let's just get to the point. "Harry quickly intervened before his friend exploded. "Why did you want to meet us?"  
  
"I agree completely Potter. I don't want to spent more time in your presence than I have to." With another sneer in Ron's direction Draco continued. "I recently gained more privilege in the... inner circle, and I have stumbled upon something that I don't like."  
  
"Oh, really? Now that must have been difficult!" Ron uttered sarcastically.  
  
"Keep your mouth shut Weasel, before I shut it for you!" Draco snapped back. "Now, this is the case," he continued, "Some of the killing done on behalf of the Dark Lord is done for pleasure, and I don't like it. I don't want innocents being killed without a very good reason."  
  
"Is there ever a reason to kill innocents?" Harry said, speaking for the first time.  
  
"Yes, Potter, but I wouldn't think you could understand that, so I won't bother explaining either, because it has nothing to do with the reason you are here."  
  
"Then what is the reason I am here?"  
  
"If you two wouldn't keep interrupting me you would have known by now!"  
  
"Right, okay, go on then."  
  
"I want you to help me to stop some of these killings."  
  
Harry and Ron's mouth drooped.  
  
"You want us to do what?" Ron gaped.  
  
"Doesn't your little brain process what I am saying?"  
  
"Malfoy, I swear to Merlin, if you don't stop being so ironic, I'm going to hex you into oblivion!" Ron yelled.  
  
Malfoy just smirked. "I would like to see you try!"  
  
"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Harry muttered. "Will you both stop! Malfoy, explain yourself more clearly."  
  
"Potter, don't go ordering me!"  
  
"Malfoy, you are just so damn difficult! You are the one asking for our help, but for us to be able to help we need to know what it is you want us to do."  
  
Draco sighed, "Fine, let's get this over and done with. I will give you info on Death Eater parties. I want you to do the necessary to make sure there are no killings. Okay?"  
  
"Whoa, hold it just one minute. Are you saying you are turning over to our side and you will give us info?"  
  
"No, Weasel, I am not turning to your loosing side. I am just against certain parts of my side. And about those bits I am going to give you information. Now what do you say?"  
  
"How do we know you aren't lying to us?" Harry asked.  
  
"You don't. You will only know if I'm telling the truth is when you accept my offer and find out for yourselves."  
  
"Hmm, you have a point there. Well, we have nothing to loose when we accept, have we?"  
  
"Except our credibility." Ron interrupted. "If we go to someone telling them we have important information and it turns out it was completely wrong we will look like trouble making idiots"  
  
"Everyone can get it wrong once. Just tell the person you are telling it to you are not yet completely convinced by your source. That would save your credibility, Weasel-king."  
  
Ron frowned, but didn't react..  
  
"So, do you agree?"  
  
"Well, I guess so then." Harry said.  
  
"Good. Whenever I need to warn you for something I'll send you a letter by morning post using a school owl. I will not mark my letters in a specific way and I won't sign them. I believe that is all we need to discuss. Don't expect me to go all chummy and buddy with you, because nothing has changed."  
  
"Thank Merlin for that. I think I wouldn't survive you being friendly to us." Ron spat.  
  
Draco glared. "Don't worry Weasel. The feeling is completely mutual. Well, goodbye then."  
  
With this Draco turned on his heel and left.  
  
-*-Chapter IV) Contemplations-*-  
  
Seven years had passed by since Draco had made his decision. The war had been fought and had been settled in advantage of Potter and his followers. Draco had fought for Voldemort and had earned his share of the victories for the dark side, but it wasn't meant to be. The Dark Lord had been defeated by a boy and many had been killed, amongst them Draco's father. Of the ones who survived, many had been sent to Azkaban.  
  
Draco was still free. His decision made seven years earlier had been his salvation. Potter and Weasley had told the ministry about the dates Draco had given them and many that had been saved that way.  
  
The fools! Little did they know that Draco only had told him some of the places where the Death Eaters would keep there parties. Never had Draco given them important dates and places. Never did Draco give them anything that could hinder the Dark Lord.  
  
Draco had always been loyal to the cause and still was now, even though their leader had been vanquished. But when a leader dies, a new one shall arise and a new one had arisen.  
  
Potter's and Weasley's act of magnanimity would be there downfall. Draco had assembled the remaining Death Eaters around him. They had already managed to get some of there companions out of Azkaban and they had even infiltrated the ministry. Even though the way of the Death Eaters had changed, there cause was still the same: to create a pure wizarding world.  
  
Now that the world felt that it was save again, Draco believed it was time for action.  
  
~The End~  
  
A/N: Thank you Jo for the quick beta!!! You are wonderful! Mwa!!!  
  
A/N: I do realise the story looks like it has been finished of quickly, and frankly it has been. Some of you might already have heard about my computer crashing and deleting the original story. I intent to change the bits that make the story look sloppy, but right now I have to much school work and a busy social life to have time for it. Sorry. Hope you enjoy it anyway(.  
  
A/N: "Send him a message back that it's okay. Don't worry so much, Ron. Just because he's our enemy, the son of a Death Eater, and has preternaturally blonde hair, doesn't mean he's going to double-cross us." As Jo pointed out, and I do agree with her, this quote looks a bit out of place. Originally I wanted the story to have a slight humorous streak to it, but it turned out far more serious to be able to pull it of. I did, however, leave this in, because Nvr2Blonde asked to have this quote in the story. Sorry, hun, if it doesn't look anything like what you wanted!!  
  
A/N: The second part of the title of Chapter III "Eternal silence cries out for justice" is taken out of the song "Cry for the Moon" by a Dutch gothic band "Epica".  
  
A/N: I tried to use HTML tags to make the story a little easier to read, but they don't work. The first bracket of the tag changes into ,&v. (eg.: b blabla /b) If anyone has an idea of what I am doing wrong, let me know please!! 


End file.
